


Manners Are For Mortals

by HalfshellVenus



Category: Star Trek, TNG - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, One-Sided Attraction, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/pseuds/HalfshellVenus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is what he is and he does what he does. Relentlessly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manners Are For Mortals

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2006 [](http://summercon.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://summercon.livejournal.com/)**summercon** , because I couldn't help myself. Yet another fandom I do not write...

 

Q~Q~Q~Q~Q

_These will do nicely,_ Picard thought, pulling on the gray fitted briefs.

“Oh, not the gray,” a voice protested behind him. “It’s _so_ dull.”

Picard turned. “Q! Will you stop simply _appearing_ in my bedchamber? It’s impolite!”

“Piffle. Polite. You mortals and your qualms about politeness. _Gods_ do as they will.”

“You’re not a god,” Picard said, fastening his uniform and straightening out the placket. “Gods are mature, worthy beings. Not tempestuous, childlike creatures such as you.”

Q leaned back on the bed, crossing his legs. “Do you really know so little of gods? Read your own Earth history, Jean-Luc. The Greek gods were nothing like you describe. Jealous, unpredictable, untrustworthy, the whole lot of them,” he mused. “I must say, I did rather enjoy being Zeus. Though the swan thing might have been a bit much. Perhaps I drank too much ambrosia that day…”

Picard put on his uniform boots as he resisted the urge to take that particular bait. “What do you want, Q?”

“Dear Jean-Luc, must we stand on ceremony?”

“Quite,” Picard replied.

“Oh very well,” Q pouted. “If you must know. The Continuum has sent me to apologize for turning your little starship into an intergalactic zoo during my last visit. Though I don’t know why it’s necessary. I thought Lieutenant Woof was rather fetching as a Tirellian Arglibeast. But they insist. So there you have it: my apologies.” Q held out his hand.

“Duly noted,” Picard said, waving the hand away.

“I could come back and apologize properly later, with chocolates and silk pajamas.”

Picard stiffened. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, “Really. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Party pooper. You _must_ learn to appreciate the finer things, Jean-Luc.”

“I’ll make a note of it. However, I’m due on the bridge just now.”

“All right, fine. I’ll be going then. Oh, and Jean-Luc?” Q added carelessly. “I much prefer the red thong.” *snap*

“Q!” Picard bellowed. _Damn the impertinence of these undergarments!_

Picard commed the bridge in resignation. “I’ve been delayed, Number One. Be there shortly. Picard out.”

He removed the boots and the uniform, and went back to the beginning again…

 

_\------ fin ------_


End file.
